


Letting Loose

by piginawig



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alcohol, College AU, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Minor Bill Denbrough/Stanley Uris, They bicker a lot, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-22 11:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13165884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piginawig/pseuds/piginawig
Summary: “RTVF,” Richie said. “Radio, probably. Mom always said I got a face made for radio.”Eddie snorted. “You certainly have a wardrobe made for radio.”Richie gasped, sitting up and smoothing out his shirt. “I’ll have you know my Hawaiian shirt collection is iconic.”“Iconically bad,” Eddie snarked.Or,Eddie and Richie are college roommates, and Eddie has a spectacularly bad semester.





	Letting Loose

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a prompt I received on tumblr!

Eddie was just tucking the last corner of his fitted sheet around the thin dorm mattress when the door flew open and slammed against the wall. Eddie winced, shoulders lifting up to his ears, and turned to glare at whoever had done it. A tall boy with curly black hair stood in the doorway, and he grinned when he saw Eddie.

“Hiya, ol’ chap,” he said in a British accent. Eddie stared at him, the glare giving way to a more confused gaze. “Me name’s Richie Tozier, and you are?”

It took Eddie a moment to open his mouth, mostly because it took him a moment to work out what the guy had even said. “I’m Eddie Kaspbrak.”

“Mighty good to meet you, sir,” Richie said, and Eddie became aware of how loud the boy’s voice was. Had he never heard of using your inside voice?

“Why are you talking in a British accent?” Eddie asked, frowning. He was still up on his knees on his mattress, hands resting listlessly on the fitted sheet.

“An accent?” Richie asked, as though offended. Eddie merely raised an eyebrow. Richie shrugged, stepping fully into the room and letting the door shut behind him. It hit the frame with another loud bang and Eddie found himself wincing again. Hadn’t this boy listened at orientation, when the RA explicitly said not to slam doors? Richie ended up flopping himself on the other bed, his glasses flying off his face and landing beside him. Eddie had figured his roommate was somewhat of a mess – his dresser drawers weren’t closed all the way, unfolded clothes sticking out at odd angles like they’d just been stuffed in without thought – but he wasn’t expecting a boy who’s bright orange Hawaiian shirt didn’t match his lime green Chucks and who clearly couldn’t keep his own glasses on his face.

“So when did you get here?” Eddie asked, as he began putting the top sheet on his bed. Making his bed was last on his list, and he couldn’t wait to be done with setting up his dorm room.

“Yesterday afternoon,” Richie answered. “My parents like to get rid of me as quickly as possible once summer’s over. Soon as the dorms are open, here I am.”

Eddie frowned. “I’m sorry.”

Richie shrugged. “Eh, no worries. Say, what’s your major?”

“Business,” Eddie answered. “Haven’t decided my focus yet. You?”

“RTVF,” Richie said. “Radio, probably. Mom always said I got a face made for radio.”

Eddie snorted. “You certainly have a _wardrobe_ made for radio.”

Richie gasped, sitting up and smoothing out his shirt. “I’ll have you know my Hawaiian shirt collection is iconic.”

“Iconically bad,” Eddie snarked.

Richie’s face lit up as he laughed, and Eddie felt his stomach swoop at the sight. “You’re funny, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Jesus Christ, don’t fucking call me that,” Eddie moaned, rolling his eyes. He finally finished smoothing his bedspread out and lay down, sighing in relief once he was off his feet. “Anyway, how many years you got left anyway? You’re at least a junior.”

Eddie had been pleased when he’d gotten the letter at the end of the prior semester, informing him he’d be living in the Honor’s dorm this year. His GPA had gotten him on the Dean’s list every semester so far, and he was proud to live among other people who appreciated their education as much as he did. He didn’t want a repeat of the year before, where his roommate had been a partier who, if Eddie had to guess, had dropped out of school over the summer.

“Yeah, I’m a junior,” Richie responded. Eddie told Richie that he was a junior too and Richie grinned. “Awesome. Hey, my friend Stan’s a business major too, maybe you’ve met him? Stanley Uris?”

Eddie shook his head. “It’s a big school.”

Richie shrugged. “Oh well. Well hey, me and him and his boyfriend are headed to a party tonight, you wanna join?”

Eddie’s heart sunk. “A party? Like, alcohol, loud music, bad dancing?”

Richie’s bright face began to dim a little. “Yeah, that tends to be the environment parties exist in.”

“No thanks,” Eddie said. “I don’t do parties.”

Richie raised his eyebrows. “You don’t do parties? Do you do fun?”

Eddie furrowed his brows, arms crossing over his chest. “Uh, yes, I do happen to _do fun_ , thank you very much. I have a fuck ton of fun, I just don’t need to be drunk off my ass to do it.”

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry, Eddie Spaghetti, have I offended your delicate sensibilities?”

 _Delicate_.

The word was a punch in the gut, and Richie didn’t even know it.

“You don’t have to be an asshole,” Eddie said harshly. “If you want to rot your brain away at a party, be my guest, but don’t mock me if I actually care about my future.”

“Fuck you,” Richie said, standing from his bed and marching to the door. “You don’t know shit about me.”

The door slammed behind him and Eddie winced once again, and it was only when Richie’s stomping couldn’t be heard anymore that the word began bouncing around in his mind again. _Delicate_. Too delicate for sports, too delicate to play outside, too delicate too delicate too delicate.

*

The next two months passed in a blur of schoolwork, phone calls from his overbearing mother, and petty arguments with his roommate.

Eddie had planned on trying to make things right with Richie. He didn’t want to spend an entire year hating his roommate, and they had both stepped on each other’s toes. If they could accept their differences and move forward, they’d be fine.

However, Richie had returned to their dorm at 2 AM, the slam of the door ripping Eddie from sleep. He jumped up, frantically grabbing for some kind of weapon to use against the intruder, and managed to rip his lamp’s cord from the wall socket. Richie had laughed at him, then hiccupped. A girl followed him into the room, long brown hair cascading down her back. Eddie had glared at them once his heart wasn’t racing. Paying no mind to Eddie, who still stood next to his bed with a fucking desk lamp in his hands, Richie began kissing the girl.

“What the fuck!” Eddie screeched, when the two toppled onto Richie’s bed. Richie sat up, but the girl just giggled. “You can’t hook up in our room when I’m here!”

Richie stared at him for a moment, and then said, “okay. Then leave.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped, and he finally put the lamp down. “No. This is my room, too. It’s the middle of the night, I am not just going to leave!”

“Is it ‘cause you got no friends? No friends to take you in ‘cause you got a stick up your ass?”

Eddie gasped, anger curling in his stomach.

Richie laughed, shaking his head. “Sorry, that was too much.”

Eddie didn’t feel his apology was very sincere. “She needs to leave, Richie. Now.”

Richie groaned but eventually complied, ushering the girl out of their room. He quickly returned and crawled into bed, ignoring Eddie entirely. Eddie furiously climbed into his own bed and tried to go back to sleep. When he woke the next morning, a hungover Richie was entirely unapologetic about the previous night’s events, and Eddie was not having it.

Any thoughts of apologizing were out the window, and soon enough the two were constantly at each other’s throats. Richie continued going to parties every weekend, and Eddie had walked into their room to find Richie and some girl hooking up more times than he could count. He was trying to focus on his schoolwork, his courses this semester proving very difficult, but he found his thoughts full of his stupid roommate.

Eddie didn’t understand how he could party so often, seemingly never study, and still be an honor student. In order to live in their dormitory you had to have a 3.5 GPA. Eddie wondered if Richie’s major was just easy, classes that you could breeze through and get A’s without trying.

This theory was proven wrong one afternoon when Eddie was studying for an accounting test. He had his mini stereo next to his bed, playing music softly, and he hadn’t realized he’d been singing along until Richie, who was on his own bed doing homework, said, “Can you shut the fuck up?”

Eddie had jumped, having forgotten Richie was even in the room. He wasn’t used to his roommate being quiet. A quick sorry was on the tip of his tongue, and if it had been anyone else, he would’ve said it, but instead he said, “Can you not be an asshole?”

Richie sighed, putting his head in his hands. “Jesus. Sorry. Can you please be quiet? I can’t concentrate on this fuckin’ metaphysics homework when all I can hear is you singin’ along to fuckin’ Journey.”

Eddie frowned. “What the fuck is metaphysics?”

Richie rolled his eyes. “It’s a kind of philosophy.”

Eddie grimaced. “Why would you take that? Aren’t you a radio guy?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I not allowed to take interesting electives outside of my major? Or did you assume I took the same old Nutrition and Bio for non-science majors that everyone else takes to just cruise by? I’m actually fucking smart, believe or not.”

Richie turned away from Eddie after his rant, and Eddie turned down the dial on his radio. He knew how stressful school could be, so he tried to be as quiet as possible until Richie was done with his homework.

That day had given Eddie a bit of a new perspective on his roommate. Not that he didn’t still annoy the shit out of him, but Eddie had a new appreciation for him. He wasn’t a brainless asshole like Eddie had originally thought, but a smart asshole who was probably stressed and who had to deal with parents that weren’t the best. Eddie could relate.

He’d never tell Richie that, though. Instead, he kept arguing with him whenever he got the chance. Their bickering had sizzled down over the two months they’d lived together, not in quantity but in quality. The insults stung less, and words weren’t meant to seriously injure. It almost felt like a habit neither boy knew how to break. Someone was going to have to apologize first, and Eddie sure as hell wasn’t going to do it.

His determination wavered slightly one day, the week before midterms. Eddie’s professor had let them out early so they could study the review for their test. He had watched as the other students in his class grouped up and made plans to go to the library or a coffee shop to study together, and he sat, pretending to organize his papers in hopes that someone would approach him and ask if he wanted to study together, but soon enough he was the last one in the room. He dejectedly gathered his things and moped back to the dorm, knowing full well it was his own fault he hadn’t made friends in his classes but still managing to feel sorry for himself about it.

He walked into his room and made his way to his bed, dropping his backpack on the floor before he fell onto the mattress. He closed his eyes, ready for a nap, when the door swung open. The slam against the wall hardly affected him anymore, but he still sat up to yell at Richie for it anyway. The words died on his tongue, though, when he caught sight of Richie. Richie hadn’t noticed him; he wasn’t wearing his glasses and he hadn’t even glanced in the direction of Eddie’s bed, but Eddie watched as Richie strode into the room in a bathrobe and shower shoes, wet hair dripping. He dropped the robe to reveal only boxer shorts underneath, and Eddie squeaked.

Richie spun around, eyes wide, and came face to face with Eddie, who could feel the blush on his cheeks.

“Holy shit, didn’t think you’d be in here,” Richie said. He didn’t seem embarrassed that he was standing in front of Eddie in nothing but underwear. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen anyone but himself in nothing but underwear. Probably Big Bill, when they were kids. Certainly not Richie, who was thin and lanky and had dark hair trailing from beneath his navel and disappearing under the band of his plaid boxers. Eddie found himself clutching his bedspread, swallowing hard. Eventually Richie put his glasses on and grinned at Eddie. “Sorry, Eds, is my nakedness offending you?”

Eddie cleared his throat, wishing his face wasn’t as red as he knew it was. “No, I just – I wasn’t expecting you.”

Richie watched Eddie’s eyes, and Eddie hoped he didn’t catch the way his eyes drifted down again, snapping back up. Eddie’s eyes widened when Richie licked his lips.

“See something you like, Eddie Spaghetti?”

Richie was smirking, and Eddie felt anger bubbling up in his chest. Was Richie making fun of him?

“You wish,” he said, looking down at his comforter. He loosened his fists. 

He heard Richie chuckle. “Okay, Eds.”

Eddie hated how disbelieving he sounded.

“Whatever,” he muttered, laying back down and rolling away from Richie. He closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep to the sound of Richie’s quiet laughter.

*

Eddie stared miserably at the review sheet in front of him. He kept glancing back at his open textbook, hoping the answer would somehow jump out at him, but after three hours of working on the same four problems, he was beginning to lose hope.

The midterm for his class was in two days, and he was absolutely convinced he was going to fail. He couldn’t figure out this equation and he only had 48 hours to study. He flipped the textbook back a few pages and began to read the chapter over again. The words started to blur after a few paragraphs and he stopped. He was too stressed to do the math to calculate what grade he needed to make on this test to keep his A average, but he figured it was high. He still had a few more assignments and the actual final left but if his struggling was any indication of how the rest of the semester was going to go, he was screwed. If his GPA dropped, would he be kicked out of his dorm? Would he have to go back to the regular dorms where the noise on any given night was unbearable?

He needed to keep his grades up, if only he could figure out this fucking equation. He stared at the review sheet until his eyes began to blur, and it took a moment to realize they were blurring with tears, and he hastily wiped them away. But once the tears started, they didn’t stop. He broke down, thoughts still running a mile a minute with no stop, spiraling until he was imagining himself getting kicked out of school, having to go back to live with his mother all because he didn’t have anyone to study with because he didn’t have friends and he couldn’t figure out this equation and he was going to fail and-

“Eddie?”

His head shot up and he began wiping at his eyes, breathing heavily. He’d been crying loudly without really knowing it, his chest heaving the way it used to when he had what he’d thought were asthma attacks. He sniffed, trying to blink away tears, but they kept coming. He finally put his head in his hands, waiting for Richie to either start laughing at him or to leave the room.

He wasn’t expecting to feel an arm around his shoulder and the weight of his roommate sitting next to him on the bed.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Richie asked quietly.

Eddie shook his head, taking a deep breath even though it felt like no air was getting in his lungs. “Like you care.”

Richie sighed. “I actually do. You seem like you’re having a full blown panic attack. My friend Stan gets ‘em sometimes.”

Eddie didn’t respond, just focused on trying to breathe normally. He’d learned as a teenager that his asthma was bullshit, and he wasn’t as delicate as his mother had always said. Instead, he had anxiety, and the attacks he’d had were panic, not asthma.

“There you go,” Richie said a few minutes later, and Eddie tiredly let his head fall on Richie’s shoulder. He was always exhausted after an attack, and now was no different. “Do you wanna talk about what’s wrong?”

Eddie sniffed, wiping his eyes, relieved when no more tears fell. “Just – school. Stress.”

“Midterms, yeah?” Richie asked, and Eddie nodded. “Yeah, they’re the fucking worst. I’m going to a party tonight to blow off some steam ‘cause I’ve been so stressed about ‘em.”

Eddie stiffened. His gut reaction was to chastise Richie for going to a party when he should be studying for his tests, but then he stopped. Richie still made straight A’s, even with his partying tendencies. Richie had friends and a social life and girls liked him – and he still did well in school. Maybe Eddie could try it? Maybe it was another thing he was just too afraid of. He’d been afraid to go off to college, but getting out of his mother’s house was the best thing he’d ever done. He’d been scared to throw away his aspirator, but it’d been freeing and liberating. Maybe this wouldn’t be too bad.

Steeling himself, Eddie said, “Can I come with you?”

He felt Richie jolt. “Seriously? You wanna come to a party?”

Richie’s voice was excited, so Eddie nodded.

“Fuck yeah,” he said, bouncing a little. “You even got time to take a nap before we go!”

*

“I should probably admit something before we get there,” Eddie said, frowning at the pavement beneath their feet. The party was at a house only a few blocks away, so they were walking. “I really hate the taste of alcohol. Like – I’ve never been able to get drunk because it tastes so bad that I can’t make myself take more than a few sips.”

Richie laughed. “Dude, that is tragic. Have you tried shots?”

Eddie bristled. “My mom says shots are basically poison. She said people have died from taking shots.”

Richie stared at him for a moment, as if waiting for a punchline. None came. “Your mom sounds – no offense – fuckin’ stupid.”

Eddie’s laughter punched out of him, unstoppable. He didn’t usually laugh when people (by people, he meant Bill) insulted his mother, but for some reason Richie’s comment had him in stitches.

“Dude, you gotta try a shot of something. I take ‘em all the time, and I’m still kickin’. We’ll give you something sweet, some flavored vodka or some shit like that.”

Eddie had never been able to get drunk off beer or wine coolers the way Bill could, but he quickly learned that night that he could _definitely_ get drunk off of three shots.

He was pretty sure that made him a lightweight, because he was positive he’d heard of people taking 21 shots for their 21st birthday and like, not dying, but he wasn’t positive, and the music was too loud to think properly.

“Hey, Richie,” he said loudly. Richie turned to him, red cup in hand. Richie’s eyes were bright and he’d had two cups of beer while Eddie downed his shots, and they’d danced a little in between. Richie had called him a natural, and commented that it was good to see him let loose. Eddie agreed. “Am I a lightweight?”

Richie laughed, then reached over and pinched Eddie’s cheek. Eddie swatted at him, missing entirely. It made him giggle. Richie never answered, but they were approached by another tall boy with curly hair. And –

“ _Bill?!”_

Bill’s eyes widened comically.

The only downside Eddie had found to living in the Honor’s dorm was that he wasn’t living in the same building as Bill anymore. Bill had decided to move into an off-campus apartment with a friend he’d made in his creative writing classes, Mike. Eddie hadn’t seen him in a week, too busy studying and stressing to hang out with his best friend.

He was shocked to see him here. He had no idea Bill even went to parties.

“Bill! What the fuck! You’re at a party!”

Bill laughed, and the other curly haired boy watched with amusement.

“Eddie! W-what the f-f-fuck! _Y-You’re_ at a p-p-party!”

Eddie grinned widely and hugged his friend.

“I missed you Big Bill! Billy!”

“Billiam,” Richie cut in. Eddie’s eyes widened and he turned to Richie.

“You know Bill?”

“My best friend’s boyfriend? Yeah, we’ve met,” Richie answered calmly.

Eddie swung back to Bill. “ _Boyfriend?!_ ”

Bill bit his lip, and glanced at the curly haired boy. Eddie quickly put two and two together.

“Are you _Staaaan_?” The ‘a’ in Stan seemed dragged out, but Eddie couldn’t quite make his mouth stop. He vaguely heard Richie mutter _oh my god_ , but he ignored it.

Stan stuck a hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you. I had no idea the ‘annoying and cute Eds’ that Richie roomed with was also the Eddie from Bill’s childhood.”

Eddie felt like his head was spinning, and he leaned against the counter. He wished he’d taken one less shot. He looked at Bill, who was looking at his shoes.

“From childhood?” Eddie asked. “We’re friends _now_ , Bill.”

“I-I know w-we a-a-are, E-ed-die. B-but we’ve kn-known each o-oth-ther si-since ch-ch-childhood,” Bill explained. Eddie breathed. “H-h-how much di-did he d-drink?”

Eddie realized the question was posed at Richie, not himself.

“He had three shots,” Richie said. “Apparently he’s a lightweight. But he was um – upset, earlier. Asked if he could come with me.”

“Really?” Stan’s voice was hard, and Eddie frowned at him. He watched as Bill reached out and grabbed Stan’s hand and squeezed. He wondered how long his best friend had had a boyfriend without telling him. “You treated _him_ like shit for wanting to come to a party in the first place, but it’s okay to go to one when _you’re_ upset. Wow.”

Eddie opened his mouth, but closed it again. His brain was jumbled, and he was scared if he tried to answer he’d start crying instead.

“St-stan –“

“It’s not like that, Stan,” Richie said. Eddie kept his eyes on his shoes. “We’ve been getting along better lately. We just got off on the wrong foot is all – and besides, he’s Bill’s best friend –“

“Best friend?” Stan laughed. “He’s hardly hung out with Bill at all this semester! He didn’t even know his own best friend had a boyfriend!”

“That’s m-my fault,” Bill said, reaching out to pat Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie looked up and locked eyes with him. “I w-wanted to t-tell you, b-but e-e-everytime we hu-hu-hung out, y-y-y-you were so s-s-s-stressed. I-it got t-t-to where the o-o-only ti-time we hang o-o-out is t-t-to stud-d-dy.”

Eddie frowned, feeling tears fill his eyes. “It’s been a tough semester.”

“Tough doesn’t cover it,” Richie mumbled, but Eddie heard him and gave him a questioning glance. “No offense, dude, but you study all the fuckin’ time. It’s all you do, apart from argue with me. You were literally having a panic attack you were so stressed about it. You need to lighten up. Spend more time with your friends and less time studying. I’m sure you’re grades won’t suffer too much for it.”

“I’m sorry,” Stan said. “I just – the only thing I’ve heard from Richie is that you were rude to him, and Bill only mentions how busy you are. I was just looking out for them.”

Eddie shrugged. He felt winded. He tried to think back over the semester from their perspective and it hurt. He had been so focused on staying in the Honor’s dorm and keeping his GPA up that he’d neglected his best friend, fought with his roommate for no real reason, and stressed himself into a panic attack. He wondered how much of his ongoing feud with Richie was real, and how much he was exaggerating in his own head. Did Richie ever hate him at all? Had their bickering really been just bickering? He found himself unsure. He wasn't even sure if he'd ever hated Richie. He found himself leaning into Richie, who easily wrapped an arm over his shoulders. It was time to change, or else he’d end up alone and out of his mind, like his mother.

His mother, who swore he was too _delicate_. He turned around, Richie’s arm falling as he did, and grabbed the bottle of flavored vodka he’d been drinking from earlier. He poured a shot for himself and threw it back, wincing as it burned down his throat.

He turned back around to face three wide-eyed boys, who all looked equally stunned and proud. Eddie grinned at them. “Time to let loose.”

Eddie letting loose was not quite as crazy as the average college student letting loose, but it still left Bill outrageously proud of his best friend. Eddie had always been responsible in the most unhealthy of ways, and unfortunately that had carried into college. Bill only hoped this new attitude continued throughout the rest of the semester.

Eddie stood on the dance floor across from Richie and next to Bill and Stan. The song was upbeat and the room was dark, and people were jumping and splashing alcohol from red cups onto the floor. Eddie watched as a girl grinded on a guy and for a moment he imagined doing that to Richie, but then Richie smiled at him and started head banging and Eddie laughed instead. He shook his hips wildly, arms flailing about and accidentally smacking Bill in the face. He and Richie giggled, and Eddie apologized halfheartedly to Bill, who waved him off.

After dancing, the four boys stepped outside and into the cool air. Eddie wiped the sweat from his neck and yawned.

“No one told me getting drunk makes you tired,” he said. The others laughed, and he shrugged. “But I see why people do it so much! My brain finally shut up for once.”

He ignored the frowns on Richie and Bill’s faces.

“Hey,” Stan said suddenly. “Let’s go get breakfast.”

*

Twenty minutes later the four were sat in a booth at a 24 hour diner right next to campus. Eddie had a plate of pancakes and a glass of cola in front of him, and he moaned loudly every time he took a bite, until Richie kicked him under the table and told him to _stop doing that_ with a bright red face.

He felt significantly more sober after the meal, but still less anxious than normal, and he counted it as a win. When they stepped outside and parted ways with Bill and Stan, he watched longingly as the two cuddled up to each other. His heart dropped as they leaned in, Bill pressing a kiss against Stan’s lips as they walked, and he found himself wanting to kiss Richie.

“Come on, let’s get home,” Richie said, pulling Eddie from his reverie. Eddie nodded, and the two began their walk back to the dorm. “Did you have fun tonight?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “Aside from the part where I realized I’m wasting my life away.”

Richie snorted. “That’s a little dramatic, I think.”

“You’d know drama, Mr. I Got A Face For Radio.”

Richie laughed loudly, and Eddie felt warm. “I forgot I told you that.”

Eddie shrugged. “I remember that whole conversation. It was so stupid.”

Richie shrugged. “It’s in the past, let’s just forget about it.”

Eddie nodded, and then he was struck with another memory. He stopped on the sidewalk. “Do you think I’m cute?”

Richie stopped too, turning to face him. His cheeks were red and his eyes were wide behind his glasses. “Uh.. what?”

Eddie jumped and pointed. “You said I was cute! To Stan! ‘Cause Stan said I’m cute and annoying!”

Richie put his face in his hands, and muttered, “I’m never telling Stanley anything ever again.”

Eddie smiled. “You think I’m cute, Richie Tozier. You think I’m fuckin’ _cute_ -“

“It’s not like you don’t think I’m –“ Richie stopped, biting his lip. Eddie watched in fascination as he worried away at the pink skin under his teeth. “I saw you watching. That time I came back from the showers.” His voice had dropped, and Eddie felt heat travel through his body. Richie took a step closer. “Yeah, I think you’re _cute_ , Eds.”

Eddie’s breath hitched, and he closed the remaining distance between their bodies. He met Richie’s eyes, and, in the spirit of letting loose, leaned up and kissed him.

*

Eddie woke up and the first thing he was aware of was the disgusting taste in his mouth. The next thing he noticed was that someone was cuddled up to him, spooning him, and that their hand was splayed across his stomach – his bare stomach. He let out a quiet gasp at the realization that he was only wearing his underwear, and his mind immediately began replaying the events of the night before.

He’d kissed Richie. He kissed Richie on the sidewalk and then they’d walked back to the dorm room and each of them climbed into their own bed. But Eddie hadn’t been able to get Richie’s lips out of his mind, and after a few minutes he’d climbed out of his bed and crawled into Richie’s, silencing Richie’s questioning sounds with a kiss.

He remembered removing t-shirts and jeans, and big hands on soft skin and wet lips on his neck and soft gasps and feeling the best he’d ever felt.

He could feel Richie’s hot breath on the back of his neck and it made him think about all the times he’d walked in on Richie hooking up with a girl. Was he just another conquest? Another person to make out with while drunk? Had there been other boys before him, or was he the first guy Richie had ever gotten off?

“I can hear you thinking,” Richie mumbled against his neck. “It’s too loud for this early in the morning.”

Eddie glanced at the alarm clock on Richie’s desk. “It’s ten AM.”

“Exactly,” Richie said, pulling Eddie back into him. “Go back to sleep.”

Eddie tried. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, but he couldn’t relax. He thought back to his drunken mantra the night before – let loose. He wasn’t sure how well that was going to work out.

“Richie, I’m – I need to get up and take a shower, I feel gross,” Eddie whispered. Richie groaned but released his hold, and Eddie climbed out of the bed.

*

After his shower, he went straight to the bus stop. It was a quick ride to Bill’s apartment, and he felt no guilt knocking loudly on the door. It was almost eleven, and Bill should be awake.

However, it was not Bill who opened the door. Eddie supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised at the appearance of Stan in Bill’s apartment.

“Eddie,” he greeted. “Did we plan something for this morning?”

“No,” Eddie admitted, thankful when Stan let him in anyway. “I just needed to talk to Bill about something.”

“He’s in his room,” Stan told him, before heading toward the kitchen. Eddie noticed he was making coffee, and wondered how many nights a week Stan stayed here. Bill was sprawled across his bed when Eddie walked in, and he grinned at the sight of his best friend.

“Morning, Billy,” he said, and Bill jolted awake.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said. “I wanted to talk to you about some stuff…”

“Wh-what’s up?”

“So… After we went back to our dorm last night, Richie and I kinda… hooked up.”

Bill grinned. “A-a-and?”

Eddie flushed. “And what? I don’t know! We were drunk and he hooks up with people all the time!”

“R-r-really?” Bill asked.

Eddie shrugged. “I mean, maybe not so much in the last few weeks, but the first two months of the semester it was like once a week! And always girls!”

“W-w-well y-y-you don’t n-n-need to wo-worry about be-be-being a guy. Ri-richie hit on m-me wh-when w-w-we met. I m-met him be-be-before St-st-stan.”

“But he hit on you. Because he’s a flirt. How am I supposed to be roommates with a guy I had a one night stand with?”

Bill just raised his eyebrows at him. Stan walked in the room then, two mugs of coffee in his hands. He gave one to Bill who sipped it slowly, then looked at Eddie and said, “F-f-first, ma-ma-make s-s-s-s-sure it’s a wuh-wuh-one ni-night st-stand.”

*

Eddie’s heart was racing when he returned to the dorm. He took a few deep breaths before opening the door and stepping inside. Richie was sitting on his bed, reading a book, and he glanced up when Eddie walked in.

“Hey,” he said. “Kinda worried me when I woke up and you weren’t here. I half expected you to go request a room change.”

Richie’s laugh was self-deprecating and Eddie hated it. He wondered how many self-deprecating jokes Richie had made that he missed while he was busy hating him.

“Sorry,” Eddie said, sitting next to him. He was glad Richie had gotten dressed since he’d left. “Just went over to Bill’s.”

“How are Billy and Stanley this fine morning?” Richie asked, putting on his British accent.

“Really?” Eddie asked. “The British guy?”

Richie shrugged, looking down. “British guy comes out when I’m nervous, I guess.”

The words struck Eddie like a physical blow. Richie had used the British guy the first time they met.  He decided not to comment on it.

“Bill and Stan are good,” he said, answering Richie’s previous question. “Stan definitely stayed the night there last night.”

Richie chuckled. “Yeah, he does most nights.”

“So um-“ Eddie paused, wondering how to word his question. “Do we need to apologize?”

“For last night?” Richie asked, eyes wide.

Eddie shook his head quickly. “No! No, I mean, the day we met. We were both mean to each other and – I know we’ve gotten along a little better lately but it’s still weird and there’s all this tension-“

“Eddie,” Richie cut him off. “There’s tension because we’re _attracted_ to each other.”

Eddie’s mouth shut.

“I never even hated you – you annoyed the shit out of me sometimes, but I could always tell how stressed you were and just… I know I can be a bitch when I’m stressed, so. I figured that’s what was happening with you. You were way too cute to be mad at, anyway. And arguing with you is fun.”

“Oh,” Eddie said dumbly. “You were never mad at me?”

Richie snorted. “Well, I wouldn’t say _never_. But never for too long. Especially after that day that I snapped at you – when I was studying philosophy. Remember that? You were so nice, just stopped making noise even though I was a dick. That’s what I mean – sometimes I get stressed too and I take it out on other people. It just so happens that we take it out on each other because there’s no one else in the general vicinity.”

“Is that why you kissed me back?” Eddie asked quietly. “Because there’s no one else in the general vicinity?”

Eddie felt Richie lean into his space, felt hot breath on his cheek and closed his eyes.

“I think you know how easy it is for me to find a hook up – if I’d wanted someone else, I could’ve gotten someone else.”

“Okay but – is this a game? Or part of our bickering thing? Or – is it – because I don’t do one night stands, I don’t do casual and I’m freaking out because I don’t know what I’m supposed to do!” Eddie’s voice was shrill, but he calmed when Richie wrapped his arms around his shoulders. He relaxed into Richie’s embrace, breathing heavily.

“I was hoping it _wasn’t_ a one night stand, actually,” Richie said softly, once Eddie was calmer. Eddie’s breath hitched when he felt soft lips on his cheek. “But that’s entirely up to you.”

Eddie turned his face until their noses bumped and their eyes met. Richie’s brown eyes were kind and held no expectation, and Eddie felt his stomach swoop. It wasn’t long before their lips met in the middle, Richie’s hands coming to rest in Eddie’s hair and Eddie’s finding Richie’s waist. Richie’s tongue was between his lips and he leaned backward, Richie’s body hovering over his. Richie’s hands found the hem of his shirt and started to lift when Eddie pulled back.

“Wait,” he said, breathless. Richie immediately let go, sliding off Eddie and dropping on the bed beside him. “I wanna go slow.”

Richie chuckled a little. “After we hooked up, you wanna go slow?”

“Shut up,” Eddie blushed. “I just mean – I’ve never really done anything before last night and – without the alcohol giving me courage I think we should take… baby steps. I don’t know what I’m doing, I wanna… work up to it.”

Richie smiled, placing a chaste kiss on Eddie’s lips.

“Can I kiss you on the doorstep when I drop you off after our date?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You can’t drop me off after a date, Richie, we live in the same room.”

“Damn,” Richie said, “that’s gonna make it really awkward when I jack off after our dates then-“

“Oh my god, shut the fuck up,” Eddie groaned, grabbing a pillow and smacking him with it. Richie laughed loudly, and Eddie couldn’t fight the smile forming on his face. His chest didn’t feel heavy and his mind wasn’t racing and he felt happy, sitting here with Richie and making jokes.

Maybe letting loose wasn’t going to be as hard as he thought.


End file.
